Vajra

I.

After you finish telling me
what I feel
my heart is locked.
My mouth tastes lemons.

Under the equanimity
of the moon's soft face
my garden continues
to grow.

II.

I must be clear as dawn
clear as throat
clear as ice
to be a mirror for you,
shadowing the lake.
I must be something dark enough
to keep unfolding.

III.

My fingers frost
at the cold's first
touching

your message lost
in the heat of my breath.

Earth is where I could
be sane
if I felt my heart.

IV.

No - the snowfall is black.
The park where I thought I was
is gone.
The blanket of defense
is smothering.